


Base Instincts: Reverse the Curse

by ImaniJoain



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4734341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sango has been acting strange lately, and Miroku isn't complaining. He just needs to figure out what caused the new behavior - and make sure she stays that way. This is a spin-off from Base Instincts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please Pavlov

She grabbed his butt. Miroku reached back with his own cursed hand and hovered over the area. Kagome and Inuyasha were in the woods. Shippo was off finding firewood. Then she… He shook his head, still not quite believing it. Sango had instructed him to go fishing, grabbed his posterior, and then calmly walked away. She _fondled_ him. _Sango_ fondled him.

 

Miroku looked up at the sky, checking to make sure the sun had not gone into hiding. The end of the world must be near, if Sango was voluntarily grabbing him. That or he had fallen into some sort of dream-world. _Would that be bad_ , a little part of him wondered. She had been acting much more affectionate lately. He had, only recently, determined that she touched his neck or hands when he had been doing something she particularly liked. Not to her, personally - that still earned him a close encounter with Hiraikotsu, but doing admirable things for others seemed to result in a Sango that was willing to be physically close to him. Over the last few weeks, she had stroked his arm, threaded her fingers through his hair and even...his body hardened at the memory. Just the day before, she had whispered in his ear and...she licked him.

 

Miroku could feel a light sweat breaking out, despite the crisp fall air, as he stood in the road. She had traced his ear with her tongue…and then she blew hot air...and then she bit him - just a brief, sharp nibble. It had been at least a half-hour after that before he felt he could stand and walk back to Kaede’s cottage without frightening the villagers with the staff thrusting under his robes. He thought he had figured it out, the game she was playing. If he was good, he got a reward. He had begun a test for that theory already, but the results were inconclusive. It was the most wonderful, torturous, fantastically delicious karmic experience he had ever been privy to - and he had intended to make certain it was repeated on a much more frequent basis. Then, just a few moments ago, on the road...he hadn’t _done_ anything. He reviewed the morning, carefully examining his actions. There was nothing he could find that would be considered ‘good’ by Sango. If he didn’t know what prompted the lovely slayer to grope him, he couldn’t get her to repeat it. And he desperately wanted her to repeat it.

 

Miroku shook himself out of his stupor, and listened closely for the stream. He was supposed to be catching fish for lunch. He walked through the little clearing where Shippo was piling wood, still deep in thought. Lecherous behavior resulted in pain, being kind and generous to others resulted in her fingers in his hair and her lips at his ear, but what in the name of the Great Buddha resulted in a soft hand on his backside? He arrived at the stream to find Sango, in her pink and white kosode and green mo-bakama, kneeling at the edge and washing her face. Her rear end was poised in the air, and his hand itched to caress that luscious, firm curve. He moved closer without even realizing he was doing so. He knew what it would feel like in his hands, full, firm, soft and absolutely squeezable. Inches from her, he stopped himself. _Step One: Good Behavior._

 

He moved a few yards upstream and began folding back his sleeves so that he could fish. He could feel Sango’s eyes on him, but he was still debating the wisdom of ignoring the delectable opportunity she had presented in favor of a future reward that he wasn’t certain he understood. He set down his staff as Sango stood. She was saying something about setting up camp. She thought Inuyasha and Kagome would be a while. _Only if my hanyou friend is much more blessed than I._ He reached one hand into the water, holding very still so that the fish would get used to his presence and swim closer. It took everything he had to not move when he felt a light pressure on his back. She bent close to his ear, her hair slipping over her shoulder to brush against his lips.

 

“Perhaps when we begin traveling again, you will walk with me for a while?” Her hand was tracing down his spine with just enough pressure to create the flimsy excuse that she needed to balance herself on the sloping bank of the stream. Miroku closed his eyes against the dual sensation of her strong fingers and warm breath. Sango had never been in danger of clumsiness in her life. She certainly had no need to use him for balance, which meant...this could be another reward. _What did I do to deserve it!?_ One part of his brain was going crazy, another was analyzing all potential methods for creating and testing hypothesis for gaining _more_ pleasant contact, another was selecting a long meditative chant to prepare for the torture of being good while she was being so very, _very_ good. And his body had abandoned his mind completely to strongly encourage him to seize the opportunity. Or at least find a private place to seize himself.

 

“As you wish, dear Sango,” was all he could manage. A fish swam right into his hand, but he didn’t catch it. He was too distracted by her palm on his rear. Then she was gone, with a whisper of cloth and the faintest hint of a chuckle. His fish had disappeared too, but he couldn’t care less.

 


	2. The Trouble with Patriarchy

Sango’s face was on fire, she was certain of it. As she went about making camp – clearing a spot for the fire, checking the perimeter for poisonous plants or frequent animal tracks – she tried to will the blush away. _After all_ , she reasoned with herself, _it isn’t as though this was the first time._   That line of thinking didn’t help much, nor did wondering about the next step in Kagome’s plan – which brought up a concern for how long Kagome had been out in the woods. Which reminded Sango of who her friend was with, and what they could be doing. “Hentai,” she admonished herself in a whisper. Shippo looked up from where he was starting a fire and shook his head. Sango consoled herself with the knowledge that the kit no doubt assumed she was speaking of Miroku.

_Miroku._ Her heart fluttered in a pleasant way and her cheeks flared red again. That insufferable man would be the death of her. She wanted him, more than anything she wanted him, but he was his worst enemy. When Kagome had suggested training the monk to encourage better behavior, she had been hopeful, but realistic. Until she had seen him kneel down to fish, she would have said that the results had been mixed. That was no longer the case. She had heard him approaching, and conscious of Kagome’s advice to test him, had purposefully leaned further over the stream that was necessary to wash her face. Her bottom high in the air, she had held her breath when he stopped on the bank.  After only a moment, he had moved a few paces away from her and began to fish. Disbelief and excitement warred within the slayer.

Miroku had _not_ groped her. 

The opportunity was there, the pervert had clearly hesitated when he was presented with it, and then made the gentlemanly decision. Sango was so shocked, so happily shocked, that she had almost forgot to reward him. A breathy word in his ear, a caress across his back and lower, and then she made a hasty exit. She hadn’t even been able to contain a small giggle of excitement. The plan was working. 

It took much longer than usual for Miroku to catch enough fish for lunch, which was to everyone’s advantage. Shippo took the opportunity to play with Kirara. Sango was finally able to turn her mind to something that did not make her blush. And Kagome and Inuyasha emerged from the trees, slightly rumpled, in time to eat. Although embarrassed for her friend - it was obvious what the newly mated couple had been doing with Kagome’s soft smile and Inuyasha’s possessive hand at her waist – Sango pushed it aside. She opened her mouth with an excuse ready to get Kagome away from camp and share the news about Miroku’s progress away from prying ears. 

Then he ruined it. 

“Lady Kagome,” the smiling monk said, handing Sango a fish and sitting down beside her, “you must take a care with our hanyou friend. Too vigorous a…sitting…has left him dazed.” 

Silence reigned in the camp for a long moment, and Sango had the odd sensation of watching the action from outside her body. Kagome blushed furiously. Inuyasha swore and threatened Miroku’s life. Shippo, perhaps with the most appropriate response, merely rolled his eyes and muttered, “Idiot.” The houshi turned towards Sango, his eyes still sparkling. For Sango, reality snapped back into focus with a vengeance. 

“Hentai,” she bit out and slapped him across the face. Unfortunately, she had forgotten the spitted fish in her hand so the blow lacked force. It made up for it with fish bits sticking to the monk’s hair and skin. Sango stood and stomped to the other side of the camp to sit next to Kagome. It was just too disappointing. 

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Kagome whispered encouragingly to her.  Sango didn’t know what Rome was, or how long it took to build, but she understood the meaning. 

“It could have been,” she said sourly, “if stupid men hadn’t been building it.”

 


	3. A Little Help From My Friends

Miroku had rinsed out the dishes from lunch and washed the fish scales off of his face without complaint. He put out the fire and refilled Kagome’s water bottles and fell into line on the road, all without saying a thing. He wasn’t sure what to say. The entire matter deserved some serious contemplation. Sango had bent over the stream – he had to gulp a few times to push past the image, _lush, round_ – and he had continued on his way. Not ignored her, obviously that was impossible, even for a devout monk like himself. But he had kept his hands wholesome, if not his eyes. The reward was well worth it.

 

He shook his head after a few long minutes to clear out that memory, and blink the glaze from his eyes. So his hypothesis was two-fold: admiring Sango but not touching would be rewarded with her boldness - and he desperately wanted more of her boldness - _and_ suggestive behavior or comments would result in punishment. To be honest, he was already so familiar with the latter that it didn’t require testing, but Miroku enjoyed the fire of Sango’s anger. He had always appreciated rough play, but had no idea how much until he met the slayer. Of course, he would prefer that he end up somewhere close and secluded with a naked woman after such a display – rather than alone and unconscious in the dirt. But he had become accustomed to taking what he could get.

 

All in all, he considered the short break a successful experiment. As a bonus, Sango had been angry enough that she once again seized Kagome’s arm and marched at the head of the group. Her firm step and position in front of him left him with a delightful view. However - he shook himself again, wondering how long he had been lost in fantasy - the game she was playing was quite serious, and simply knowing the rules did not guarantee his success. What he needed was a plan of action, a strategy to not only change his behavior to merit every reward Sango could possibly, willingly, _wantonly_ -

 

“Watch it, idiot!” Inuyasha shoved him roughly and Miroku found he had wandered from the center of the path to crowd against his hanyou friend. With an apology, he resumed his pace, waving at the concerned look the women threw back at him. Well, Kagome looked concerned. Sango looked irritated.

 

Miroku considered himself a master seducer. A wooer of women. A consummate charmer. Until Sango, he had never worked so hard to receive the softer, finer pleasures in life. Until Sango, he had never had to work at all. It was not a complaint however, it was a compliment to her. _Nothing easily gained is often cherished_ , he quoted to himself. And he did enjoy the pursuit.

 

The problem, as he saw it, was not that she was not receptive to his overtures, it was that he had not yet found the right angle to take with such a unique woman. Between the two of them, they had all of the intimate knowledge and emotional barriers of…of… Miroku’s eyes lit up. He knew another couple with nearly the same issue, but in reverse. Kagome had an education in private, sensual matters that he could only imagine from her future schooling, and she was nothing if not open with her love and concern for Inuyasha. Although, matters probably would have been resolved years earlier if she had taken a cue from the monk and displayed that love physically. And Inuyasha was so afraid of being emotionally hurt, of the impacts of a relationship on social status and public perception, that he couldn’t see Kagome’s gestures for what they were.

 

Sango was cautious regarding any perceived relationship between them to the extreme, and her heart had been deeply bruised by the loss of loved ones. Thinking on the pain Sango had endured renewed Miroku’s determination. He could show her how much he cared for her, he could bring her immense joy, if only she would allow him. If only she could understand that her happiness, her pleasure, was all he thought of. _Well, almost all._

 

The matter was decided, then. Miroku nodded resolutely to himself. He needed only to question the irascible hanyou to discover what had made him believe in Kagome’s feelings. Once Miroku discovered how Inuyasha had overcome his fears, then the monk could open Sango’s heart, _among other things_ , to his love.

 

“Inuyasha, my friend,” he called out with a smile. Fuzzy ears twitched and golden eyes narrowed with suspicion. _Such an untrusting soul. I am a holy man, after all._


	4. It's An Aphrodisiac

Sango wasn't sure what Miroku was saying to Inuyasha, but it must have been more perverted that usual, as the hanyou had spent most of the afternoon alternating between cursing, blushing, whacking the monk on the head, and leaping into the trees to get away from him. He never seemed to learn his lesson though. As soon as their dog-eared friend was walking on the road again and his manner relaxed, the monk would approach him and the process would repeat. The most recent punch had left Miroku kneeling in the dirt, shaking his head. The party had to stop for a few minutes while he regained his bearings.

 

“If I wasn't certain he deserved it,” Kagome observed with a wince, “I would feel so sorry for him.”

 

“Oh, he deserves it,” Inuyasha muttered as he stomped past them to lead the group.

 

“Really, what for?”

 

Shippo's innocent question made the hanyou blush and Sango shared a surprised look with her dearest friend. She was sure Miroku did deserve whatever punishment Inuyasha had meted out, but usually the cause wasn’t so secretive. Of course, usually the monk was bold enough that everyone in a thirty-foot radius knew the extent of his lechery. Sango glanced backward to see Miroku rising to his feet and waving with a dazed smile for them to continue. She couldn’t stop the little worm of unease that niggled in her mind. Although she wanted to go to him, to check on his injury because the man was walking fine but his eyes were unfocused, she would not allow herself to do so. It would be too forward, and if Inuyasha and Shippo thought she wanted to assess the monk’s condition…Sango felt a heated blush and resolutely faced ahead. Even if she felt comfortable showing concern or affection in front of others, there was absolutely no way she could do so with any level of certainty that Miroku could keep his hands to himself.

 

 _Or his tongue_ , she thought sourly, then blushed even harder. Of course she had been thinking about his lewd comments, but the words popped into her head and then she couldn’t not think about his tongue. Kagome had assured her that men liked hot breath, whispered words, and wet mouths on their ears. The miko had also flushed and her eyes had sparkled when she finished up that conversation with ‘and in other places’. Sango knew her face was on fire, and she desperately tried to turn her thoughts to a less intimate subject. Unfortunately, her imagination was vividly painting a picture of gentle hands on her shoulders, a handsome face leaning down close to hers, soft lips whispering poetry and then taking her ear-

 

“Oi-” Inuyasha glanced back, his face as red as his haori. “What the hell was in that fish? Ginseng?”

 

“Wha- Inuyasha!” Kagome scolded.

 

“Really? Why would you say that, Inuyasha?” Miroku took several quick steps until he was nearly even with the women.

 

Shippo jumped onto Kagome’s shoulder with a confused expression and sniffed loudly, “Ginseng? I don’t think so, baka.” Sango wasn’t sure why the hanyou had stared at her so surprised, then immediately avoided her gaze, or why his new mate was chastising him with a blush. She did know that Miroku’s immediate interest probably meant it was less than appropriate to discuss in front of Shippo. Kagome apparently agreed, her mouth opened to distract the little demon, but she didn’t get the chance.

 

“Watch it, runt,” Inuyasha growled. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

 

“I’m little, but my nose works, Inu-baka! Yuzu-” A flash of red and a gust of air was the only indication of what had happened, but Shippo was gone and the three humans left alone on the road. Kagome stopped, and Sango and Miroku did the same. From somewhere in the trees, Inuyasha’s gruff voice called down to them, “Gonna have a lesson – we’ll keep up.”

 

Sango looked to Kagome, who seemed just as surprised, although she obviously knew more about what had happened than she was willing to say. After a long moment of silence, she straightened her shoulders, “Okay!” The miko said brightly, and louder than was really necessary. “Let’s keep going. I’m sure Shippo and Inuyasha will have something caught for dinner by the time we make camp.” She started off, and after a beat Sango and Miroku began to follow her.

 

The slayer’s embarrassment and the heat brought on by her imagination were nearly forgotten in favor of wondering when Inuyasha had decided to teach Shippo anything. It all came rushing back, however, when a low, smooth voice spoke up. He was much closer than she had realized.

 

“What do you think, my dear, could possibly smell so interesting to our youkai friends? Hm?” He wasn’t touching her, but her breath hitched as he leaned closer. As he walked behind and a little to the side, his words were hot in her ear and stirred the small hairs on the side of her neck. He must have been only inches away. “What thoughts are in your head, lovely Sango? I wonder.”


	5. Circuitous Conversation

Miroku finally had an opportunity to speak to Inuyasha after dinner that night. The hanyou had set an easy pace all afternoon, to the apparent surprise of the women. The monk understood completely. Kagome had been walking a bit stiffly, no doubt due to recent activities that were more strenuous than she was used to. Unconsciously or not, the person responsible for her sore muscles had allowed her a gentle pace and then led the group off of the road for quite a distance in order to camp near a hot spring. Those were the actions of a male who had been unburdened of a great deal of tension and hoped to do so again in the future. The women had, predictably, eaten quickly and removed themselves for a long soak. They took Shippo with them, and left the man and hanyou at the camp with strict instructions to stay there.

 

All in all, Miroku took it as a sign that the fates were smiling on him. Inuyasha was full of ramen, _satisfied_ , and eagerly awaiting the return of his new mate. He would never leave Miroku alone at the camp – for fear that he might wander off to inspect the springs. _A captive audience,_ Miroku thought with relish. There was also the added benefit that his friend would no doubt be reluctant to start any physical altercation that the women might hear; his efforts to keep Kagome in a good mood would work to Miroku’s advantage.

 

“Hanyou senses are considerably more acute than those of a human, are they not?” Miroku kept his tone pleasantly inquisitive, choosing to work up to the topic.

 

“Keh. ‘Course they are. Your nose might as well not be on your face,” Inuyasha answered, as though it were obvious. It was obvious to the entire group, but that wasn’t the point. Lulling the half-youkai into a false sense of security, that was the point.

 

“And do you remember most scents? We camped here once before, but that was over a year ago. I could not have found it again, but it was quite easy for you. Did you remember the look of the place, or was it something else?”

 

“Both, I ‘spose.” Inuyasha paused for a moment, thinking over his response with rare seriousness. “I knew it was around here somewhere, but when we got closer I could smell the dogwood,” he gestured with one claw to the red-barked bushes that grew at the edge of the campsite. “That’s how I knew this was the spring with the little waterfall and the ledge that she likes to-” His mouth snapped shut and a faint blush rose on his cheeks. They were both aware that Inuyasha must have, at a minimum, eavesdropped the last time the women used those springs to know Kagome’s particular preference. It was almost physically painful for him to not tease, but Miroku wisely did not comment on how his friend had come by such information.

 

“Is the scent of each place we camp, each spring, so different?” The monk casually began laying out his bedroll, hoping to set Inuyasha at ease.

 

“Yeah. It’s the combination of things. Hot springs all smell pretty much the same – like sulphur and rock, but this one also smells like wet dogwood and marimo moss and a coppery metallic flavor. The big springs down by the bat village are sulphur and rock, reeds, lotus, and a gritty sort of underbite of mica.” The hanyou relaxed, leaning back against a tree trunk while he spoke.

 

Miroku’s intellect was sparked, and he had to main resolutely on task to keep from exploring more about hanyou senses while his friend was so uncharacteristically conversational. “How do you manage to keep so many scents memorized and organized? Especially with the human stench that we must leave on everything.”

 

“Bah, it’s not hard. I just do – and humans don’t all smell the same. Only most of them stink.”

 

“Ah, yes. I do remember you saying something about Kagome and Sango smelling differently.” Miroku nearly held his breath, waiting to see if Inuyasha would pick up on where he was being led.


	6. Operationalization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sango and Miroku were due for a bit of plot progression, don't you think?

 

“He’s just so- so-” Sango abruptly sat on a submerged ledge. Her pent up sigh of frustration caused ripples on the water.

 

“Predictable?” suggested Kagome with a smile. The two women had already finished washing their hair and were lounging in the hot water. Shippo had exhausted himself swimming to the bottom to collect interesting stones and lay on a towel a short distance away, napping.

 

“Exactly! And how is it that he makes such-such- such leaps in his assumptions!” Sango slapped the surface lightly, frowning at the way the view of her feet was distorted as the water moved. “How is it that he can think a touch of hands should lead right to my bottom?”

 

“Ah-”

 

The strangled sort of cough that Kagome was making caused Sango to look up. Her friend was bright red and obviously trying to regain her composure. “Are you okay?”

 

“Just a, ah, sort of phrasing – word choice, it’s a- you know what? It’s not important.” Kagome cleared her throat while Sango stared at her suspiciously. Sometimes she wasn’t certain that travelling back and forth to the future didn’t make Kagome a little strange. In a good way, of course. Sango loved her adopted sister, no doubt partly for her strangeness. Still, perhaps Kagome should be cautioned to limit the frequency of her travels. Or maybe all people in the future were like her. “So,” Kagome continued briskly, “Maybe we need to define the parameters of your goals a bit better.”

 

“What?’ Sango stared at her blankly.

 

“I mean, we need to figure out exactly how much of his behavior you want to change – and what is realistically possible.”

 

Sango blanched, “You don’t think this will work? But you said-”

 

“No! No!” Wide blue eyes turned on Sango and Kagome moved closer to pat her shoulder. “I definitely think this will work. But it is a matter of how long you want to spend on the training process. Like, you could train a dog to jump through a ring of fire – something completely not in its nature – but it might take years of intense work.”

 

“I do not think Miroku needs to jump through fire for me.” Sango bit her lip, worried about other things as well.

 

Kagome, as usual, spoke exactly what her friend was thinking. “And I assume you don’t want to spend years on this effort? Right?”  Years were definitely not what Sango had in mind. She wanted to get married someday, to have children, and she was at the upper age for marriage. She shook her head. “Right then.” Kagome clapped her hands together, causing Shippo to mumble in his sleep. Both women watched anxiously as he rolled over and snuffled before settling down into his nap again.

 

“So, you were saying about parameters?” Sango spoke softly, but she was resolute. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to marry or have children with anyone but Miroku. Couldn’t even imagine the possibility without feeling an ache in her heart. Kagome had never led her astray, and her advice had worked well so far.

 

“I think we agree that random groping is on the list of behavior that should be curtailed.” Sango nodded and Kagome held up one finger, dripping and steaming from the spring. “So, ideal behavior for Miroku is the goal. That includes one: uninvited, public groping. And two: suggestive language.”

 

“His face too,” Sango interrupted. Kagome held up another finger. “Oh, I mean, three: suggestive expressions.”

 

“He does have a way of making his eyebrows say a lot, doesn’t he?” Kagome shook her head in wonderment. “So the goal is good behavior. Our measurable outcomes are these three things. We’ll know,” Kagome clarified when Sango frowned, “that we have achieved success when the three things happen. However, if you don’t want to spend years at this, we need to define those outcomes more narrowly. If your objective is, say, absolutely no eyebrow waggling where anyone other than you can see him, then this is going to take a long time.”

 

Sango was beginning to see Kagome’s point. “I think his eyebrows might be outside of his own control, sometimes.”

 

“Involuntary,” Kagome nodded, “wouldn’t surprise me. Have you considered meeting him halfway?” Sango had a vision of the middle ground between what she considered acceptable behavior and what Miroku seemed to constantly have in mind. The image of herself, half naked and draped in sheer silks while Miroku pressed his lips to her chest – all in the middle of a busy marketplace – had her blushing and sputtering. Kagome quickly assured her, “Not exactly halfway, that’s just an expression. I meant that maybe instead of 100% improvement, we should be looking at like, 75-80%. That seems more realistic.”

 

Sango took a deep and calming breath. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Kagome hesitated for a moment, then smiled. The curve of her lips was sensuous and wicked and sent a little shiver of anticipation, or fear, or maybe both, dancing across Sango’s bare skin. “How flexible is your definition of _public_?”


	7. Humble Pie

Miroku held his breath, waiting to see if Inuyasha would fall into the verbal opening and tell him more about Sango’s scent. He had brought up that the hanyou thought the two women in their pack did not smell the same, and let his friend expand on that.

 

“Yeah, but that’s their attitudes as much as them.” He shrugged a shoulder and tucked his arms into the fire rat.

 

“So you can smell her love for you,” Miroku stated, rather than asked, and did his best to sound casual. The hanyou fell right into his trap.

 

His friend’s eyes became heavier, sliding in the direction of the springs, and his voice sank an octave, “ _Hell_ yes.” Miroku could feel his own interest and wonder rising. There was something about the way Inuyasha spoke of Kagome that made the monk want to find Sango and beg her to allow his touch. In the next heartbeat, furry ears twitched, eyes flew open and Inuyasha’s cheeks flushed. “I-I mean-” he floundered for a moment before hiding behind his usual scowl, “ain’t none of your fuckin’ business, pervert.”

 

“Oh, but I want it to be.” Miroku ignored the way Inuyasha blanched and shifted uncomfortably, obviously finding unintended meaning in his words. “I need to know how you knew, Inuyasha-san.” The honorific had the desired effect, giving the conversation a serious tone and drawing a golden gaze to consider him. “She has always loved you – but how did you know? How did she convince you, who – pardon my bluntness – has always believed himself to be unworthy of such a thing? Someone who trusts so little in the sincerity of others? Especially,” and there Miroku swallowed, both to move past how close the discussion was getting to his own situation and to force himself to speak openly about something that his friend might not have even admitted to himself, “how did you come to believe in the love of a woman who’s face has betrayed your heart?”

 

“She ain’t Kikyou,” Inuyasha said darkly, immediately. There was no hesitation, only a dark threat to never compare his mate to the dead miko. Both males were quiet for a long time, and Miroku wondered if he had pushed too far, too quickly. Perhaps he had crossed a line, but the stakes were too high. His future – Sango’s future and her happiness – were on the line. Just as the monk opened his mouth, unable to stand the furious silence any longer, Inuyasha spoke. “This ain’t…my problem, believing in Kagome…that ain’t Sango’s problem.”

 

Miroku sat back in surprise. He hadn’t honestly expected his friend to realize what he was asking – why he was asking. It was humbling and a little shaming that he had displayed so little respect for Inuyasha’s intellect. Despite his lack of a formal education, or any sort of basic socialization prior to forming their little pack, the hanyou was not stupid. “I am aware of that, my friend.”

 

“Are you?” His posture didn’t change, but Inuyasha’s gaze hardened further. “I’m pretty fucked up, Miroku. I got all kinds of stupid shit that got in the way of being with Kagome for a long time. But never, not once, did she do anything to make me not trust her. _Never_.”

 

Unlike you.

 

It went unspoken, but Miroku knew what Inuyasha meant. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. Sango had difficulty trusting, difficulty loving. It was nearly impossible for her to demonstrate those feelings. He had made it harder. Miroku was not a cruel man, not an unkind man. However, he had always seen his lighthearted seductions and humorous nature as an outlet, a rejection of all of the things that should have made him shun others. Should have made him untrusting and untrustworthy. Inuyasha was right though, although he hadn’t said it in so many words. While the dramatic and only half-serious attempts to woo village girls, and the smiling and eternity-serious attempts to woo Sango were his way of proving to fate that he would not be pulled into the darkness and gravity of what could be. For Sango, it only enforced all of the things that she feared: he could not be trusted with her heart.

 

Miroku had set out to trick Inuyasha into spilling some deep secret about his heart and how Kagome had cracked the shell around it. Instead, he had been taught a painful lesson about Sango’s armor – and how he had done nothing but reinforce it. It was rare the monk was serious, but the knowledge that he had hurt her, inflicted unnecessary pain on the strong little flower that he wanted only to cherish, paled his face and firmed his jaw.

 

“Tell me, Inuyasha,” Miroku said. He bowed his head, made easier by the weight of his mistakes and his own, private vow to do everything in his power to make up for them. “How do I earn that trust?”

 

“Keh.” Inuyasha huffed, but he sat up straighter. It gave the monk a little bit of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I should be working on projects that pay the rent, but you have all been so generous with your comments and praise that I had to write something for this universe. I hope you're happy - you've enabled me yet again.


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